


SNAFU

by Snooky



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snooky/pseuds/Snooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2010 PBA winner: Bronze medal for best general story: What happens when one hand doesn't know what the other is doing? Please read and review. Thanks. Originally posted on Fanfiction.net in 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

It is common for large organizations to have breakdowns in communication. It is also common in those organizations that are not attentive to remedying these breakdowns that problems will occur. Orders will be duplicated. Personnel will be confused. One hand will not know what the other is doing. And when one hand does not know what the other is doing, well in, say, a purse factory, chaos can ensue. This year's colors may not match this year's styles. And so one department will blame the other department and members of the organization, including the higher ups that caused the problems by not communicating in the first place, will not be happy. Invariably, however, those who cause the problems are not the ones ultimately hurt by the lack of communication. Now, in a purse factory, fallout could consist of unhappy consumers and perhaps designers or marketing men who may find themselves out of a job. But, when you are dealing with a World War, allies from many different countries, and different branches of the armed services, well, things can take a more serious turn.

Captain John McGraw, USAAC, had run into a spot of bad luck. He had managed to complete five successful bombing missions over Germany without a scratch, but on his sixth mission, a single Luftwaffe plane had been able to break away from the fighter squadrons and let loose a barrage that unfortunately hit his plane in a disastrous spot.

Forced to bail out, McGraw was separated from his crew upon landing and was quickly captured by a German platoon. Thankfully, the Captain was uninjured, the only lucky break he would have in the next few weeks.

"McGraw, John, Captain, T-539126"

"We know that Captain. You've repeated it constantly over three days for three different interrogators." The German interrogator in the transit camp was going through the motions, figuring he would not get anywhere. McGraw was barely paying attention. He was hungry, sleep-deprived, cold and willing to admit he was scared. He only wanted to survive this and be sent on his way to whatever prison camp he would live in for the remainder of the war. The interrogator finally released the Captain, who stumbled back to his quarters, only to be told to assemble for his transfer to his new home; Stalag 13.

McGraw was the sole passenger on the truck that passed through the front gates of Stalag 13 on a cold and windy afternoon in mid-February. Most of the prisoners were huddling in their barracks, trying to keep warm, but an alert resident of Barracks two notified Colonel Hogan of the new arrival. Battling the cold, Hogan quickly hustled over to the Kommandant's office to run interference.

The Captain was already standing in front of Klink's desk, when Hogan walked through the door.

"Kommandant, you know I should be notified when a new prisoner arrives," he said pleasantly. Turning, he introduced himself. "Robert Hogan, senior POW officer."

"Captain John McGraw, Sir."

Hogan showed no reaction at the fact that another officer had shown up in camp. The last officer taking up residence had been a plant, and he was immediately suspicious. Klink, Hogan and McGraw continued with the routine introductions, including of course, Klink's drawn-out soliloquy about his perfect no-escape record.

McGraw, a little surprised at hearing this, glanced at Hogan, who appeared, at least to the Captain, somewhat unengaged. He shrugged it off, and left the office, feeling a tad better about his new C.O. as Hogan started to pump him for information on his way to his new barracks.

Hogan left him there in the care of his new bunkmates and hurried back to Barracks two. In his possession was the Captain's name, rank and serial number, which would be passed on to London for a security check.

London was able to clear Captain McGraw within a few days and none of his bunkmates, or those shadowing him, had discovered anything suspicious. Unfortunately, about the same time, Hogan was informed via a phone tap that the unlucky pilot had been sent to the wrong camp and was being moved.

"He'll be transferred out of here in a few days, so pass the word; we're still keeping him out of the loop."

"Can't we get the Underground to ambush the truck and get him out?" Kinch asked.

"Not with the maneuvers going on around here," Hogan said. "Too risky."

"Poor bugger." Newkirk was sympathetic. McGraw seemed like a nice fellow when he had gotten close enough to him to pick his pockets.

Hogan agreed. "Yeah, it's a damn shame. But we can't save everyone, and for his own safety, our mission is a secret."

Some of McGraw's time at Stalag 13 was spent wondering why he had been sent here, and not to an officer's camp, but being an affable sort, he wisely didn't mention this to his bunkmates. He just put it down to his streak of bad luck. The rest of the time, however, was spent observing the camp, the prisoners and particularly Colonel Hogan.

The Captain spent a grand total of one week at Stalag 13. He was informed by Kommandant Klink that he had been mistakenly sent to an enlisted man's camp, while an unfortunate enlisted man had ended up in Stalag 7, an officer's camp located quite a distance away. The respective camps were notified and the switch was made. He then left the camp for Stalag 7, with a definite impression that had been imprinted on his brain.

Upon arriving at Stalag 7, Captain McGraw, who by now had fully recovered from the ordeal of being captured, thought about his duty as an officer. Within several months, he, along with several other prisoners, had escaped and made it back to England, a feat that convinced Captain McGraw that his streak of misfortune had ended.

All escaped prisoners received a warm welcome and then an extensive debriefing held at one of the numerous bases scattered along the British countryside. Captain McGraw was introduced to the American major, Brian Harrelson, who was assigned to his case. After the obligatory congratulations, the major immediately got down to business. The army was interested in any information that could be provided about the camps. McGraw did his best to describe the personnel and layout of Stalag 7, including the treatment of the prisoners, the food; in short, everything from soup to nuts.

"Now, Captain, you mentioned in your first report that you were originally sent to Stalag 13. How long were you there?" the Major asked.

"One week, Sir. It was because of a SNAFU on the German side."

"Anything to add about this Stalag? We don't have much information to go on."

"Well, there were no escapes." McGraw noted.

Interested in the Captain's tone, Harrelson asked him to elaborate.

"The Kommandant made it crystal clear when I got there that the camp was escape-proof, and when I asked around, the men backed him up."

"The prisoners backed up the Kommandant?"

"Well sort of."

Thinking he had a war criminal on his hands, Harrelson asked for information on the Kommandant. "Did he order executions, abuse the prisoners, anything?"

"No. Truthfully Major, I think he was an idiot. The prisoners even made fun of him behind his back and what's more, the camp was set-up for escapes."

"I don't get it." The Major was now taking copious notes. "What do you mean set-up?

"First, the barracks were level with the ground. Makes it easier to dig tunnels. The perimeter was wooded, and the guards, well, not too swift, if you ask me. Even the dogs didn't seem right."

"Were the prisoners digging tunnels?"

"Not that I know of, Sir. They all just seemed settled in their routine. I asked about escape committees and they always changed the subject or told me I had to check with the Colonel."

"Colonel? In an NCO camp?"

"Yeah. He was the Senior POW officer, obviously."

"What was his name?"

"Robert Hogan."

Harrelson jotted it down.

"You're an officer. Did you talk with him?"

"Not much. I had a brief conversation, the first day, in Klink's office. He asked me some questions, checking me out, obviously. Saw him around quite a bit, though. He seemed awfully friendly with the guards, and the Kommandant, as well."

"Friendly?" Harrelson leaned forward. "Are you insinuating he was collaborating?"

"I'm not insinuating anything. I'm just letting you know what I saw." McGraw explained some of the other weird things going on in camp that he had heard of or observed.

"What were the conditions like in camp?"

"Better than Stalag 7."

"Do you think this Colonel wasn't just looking out for the men?"

"Possible, but there's something going on in that camp that's not right, Sir. I'd bet my life on it."

Major Harrelson concluded Captain McGraw's debriefing with a promise to look into the situation at Stalag 13. McGraw, satisfied, continued on with his duties and was sent back into action. Harrelson was puzzled about McGraw's observations and decided to take the matter to a higher level, his superior officer, a Colonel in the Army Air Corp.

"Robert Hogan a collaborator! Not a chance in hell! Where did you get this information?" Colonel Ryan had met Hogan several times and was familiar with his record. He had known the Commander had been shot down but had not been aware of his current address. Harrelson showed Ryan McGraw's reports and brought him up to date on the Captain's observations.

"Hogan was flying for Britain before we even entered the war," Ryan explained to Harrelson as he reread the report. "I can't imagine him deliberately working with the Germans."

Harrelson elaborated. "He may not be deliberately working with the Germans, Sir, but according to this Captain, his behavior at this POW camp is out of the ordinary. In fact, the atmosphere at the camp is not what you'd expect. The camp is a textbook case of an escape waiting to happen, but they've had no successful escapes. There were no tunnels, either. The Kommandant seems to be a caricature of an old aristocratic German officer, yet the prisoners seemed to be just biding their time, according to the Captain. And look at this."

Ryan read descriptions of Hogan spending a great deal of time in the Kommandant's office, playing chess and, on one occasion, attending a dinner with Klink and several generals, allowing prisoners to work as a chef and servers. The Captain's report verified that this behavior was common. The Captain also questioned Hogan's presence in a NCO camp. When he broached that subject with others, they claimed they had no idea why he was there, but that they just followed his orders.

"That is out of the ordinary. Does this Captain have any reason, you think, to hold a grudge or make these up?" Ryan still wasn't buying it, but the information was beginning to tickle his conscience. He went fishing for an explanation.

"No," Harrelson said. "McGraw was somewhat reluctant at first to speak about a superior officer in this manner, but he was concerned and thought it was his duty to report his observations, that's all. The Captain's record is exemplary. He just wanted to get back into action."

Colonel Ryan was now a tad concerned about the information given to him by Major Harrelson. Not willing to take any chance that a bomber commander had turned or had been brainwashed, he conducted his own investigation and then brought the information to the attention of the next man in his chain of command, General Agee.

"Let me see if I got this straight. This captain spent one week in this POW camp and now claims…"

Ryan interrupted. "I wouldn't say claimed, more like he's concerned and wanted to bring it to our attention. Concerned that this Colonel Hogan is a collaborator, or brainwashed, or not capable of leading."

"And your take on this, Ryan?"

"At first, I thought these allegations were ludicrous, but then I studied the report and conducted my own investigation. Spoke to some people on the sly, of course. I think it merits further investigation."

General Agee took a quick glance at the file that Ryan had turned over to him. He took a guess that it measured at least four inches thick. He had already made up his mind that the whole matter was obviously a red herring set up to make his life miserable, but Ryan appeared so earnest that he agreed to look over the information and come up with a recommendation.

Within several days General Agee had reluctantly passed the file on to intelligence. It was now their headache. A few more weeks of in-depth research now led a high level American intelligence officer to call in two of his very best undercover operatives for an assignment.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Agents Mitch Garrett and Todd Boswell were indeed two of military intelligence's best undercover operatives. Experienced and skilled interrogators, they could easily pass for German natives. Both men had previously handled several tough assignments in the southeastern part of Germany and had cultivated reliable contacts and sources throughout the area. In their mid-thirties, they normally worked as a team and shared a deep hatred of fascism and a reputation for patience and fairness. They were the ideal men for this operation as they had never before worked in the Hammelburg area, so there would be no chance of recognition.

"There's one more thing," the intelligence officer warned. "The Hammelburg area is a hotbed of Underground activity. Try and stay out of their way, but if it's a dire emergency and you need help, we'll provide you with a radio frequency and a weekly recognition code. They may be able to get you out of Germany."

"To be honest with you, Sir, I'm skeptical." Garrett was leafing thru the file and skimming over the information.

"I was as well, but two incidents that we recently turned up just added fuel to the fire. One of the other prisoners, a British corporal, had an interview with Berlin Betty. The transcript is in there, and then there's also a transcript of Colonel Hogan speaking on Leslie Smythe-Beddoes show."

"He didn't say anything that could ever be considered traitorous." Boswell said."In fact, it looks like he made a fool…"

The intelligence agent interrupted. "We believe he chickened out. He must have agreed to go on the program to begin with, and then at the last minute changed his mind. But our concern is he may do it again."

"Have you considered that he may have been forced?" Garrett wanted to give Hogan the benefit of the doubt. "Were they holding other prisoners hostage?"

"If you read the information on the camp and the Kommandant, you will see that is unlikely. That was my first thought as well. Hogan was trying to protect 900 soldiers. Actually, I was hoping that was the case. I know that sounds awful, but the alternative is not good. We are afraid that Hogan may have already spilled tactical information, schematics, information on personnel. Who knows? There's also the propaganda factor. They've already made one attempt."

"So we go in and investigate this Colonel." Garrett was still uncomfortable with the assignment.

"Use whatever you need and any means necessary, but if you decide he's a problem, he needs to be brought back here for a court martial. If you can't get him back, take him out."

"And if he's not a problem?"

"He'd probably jump at the chance to get out and go back to his unit. I guess either way his tenure as senior POW officer of the camp is over." The military intelligence officer handed the two agents the file and wished them luck.

Garrett and Boswell infiltrated Germany and set up a safe location near Hammelburg, but far enough away so as not to arouse any suspicion or interest from anyone associated with Stalag 13. With them were three trusted men who had worked with them previously. These men would serve as guards and would handle outside activities. The men also helped the agents set up a secure room in the house they would be using. Once set in their location, they then discussed strategy.

Garrett began thinking out loud. "Our first job should be to check out this camp in person. Let's see, Red Cross…no, the tour will be staged. Hmmm. Sounds like this Klink character likes to have his ego stroked."

"Here's something. Look at this. The sabotage records." Boswell pointed to a page in the file. The complete list of recent sabotage had been secretly provided by a friendly contact in the Munich Gestapo office.

"Yeah, they're high, all right. That's it! How about if we go in as Gestapo, inflate Klink's balloon, bring up his record, get a tour and then insist on talking with Hogan about the sabotage?" Garrett said.

Boswell agreed with the plan. The agents then had their men work on obtaining the appropriate uniforms and transportation. Within a few days, they had been outfitted with a Gestapo staff car, the necessary paperwork and two uniforms. Garrett was now Major Schmidt, while Boswell took on the identity of another officer, Captain Weis.

Hogan and his men were enjoying a much needed rest after a busy week. They had successfully completed two small sabotage jobs, sent home three downed fliers, and had photographed a map carelessly carried by a visiting general who finagled a dinner out of Klink. Having run out of cookies to bet with, the boys had given up on poker and were now engaged in figuring out how to make checkers more interesting, when they were alerted to the presence of a Gestapo staff car pulling into the compound.

"Never seen those two before." Hogan had stepped out to take a peek at the new visitors. He went back into the barracks and headed for his office, where the coffee pot was already being plugged in. The men settled in for their eavesdropping session.

"Kommandant Klink, I am Major Schmidt, and this is Captain Weis. Heil Hitler."

Klink returned the salute and nervously asked what he could for the two Gestapo agents.

"We have heard about your camp record and thought a visit was in order, while we were in the area. Perhaps to obtain useful information to pass on to other interested parties." While Schmidt was speaking, Weis kept a close eye on Klink to observe his mannerisms. Upon hearing the word 'record', Klink relaxed.

"Of course. What is it you would like to know?"

"Perhaps a tour might be a good place to start." Schmidt suggested

"A tour, of course." Klink and the two agents left the office and began walking though the camp.

"A tour? How nice!" Hogan joked. "Actually, the Gestapo doesn't usually come to check out a camp. There's another reason they're here."

The two agents walked around the camp listening to Klink prattle on about security and disciplined prisoners, all the while observing the layout and the prisoners' behavior. As had been reported, the camp seemed to be an escape waiting to happen. The area around the perimeter was wooded and the woods were too close to the fence. Guards appeared to be either very young, or old and out of shape. A few were seen fraternizing with the prisoners. Most remarkable were the huts. They weren't raised off the ground, a common layout to prevent tunneling. Klink's presence in the compound was largely ignored by the inhabitants. The Kommandant did not strike fear in the hearts of anyone.

Klink was still rambling on when the three returned to his office.

"Who is the prisoners' spokesman?" Weis asked.

"Oh," Klink replied. "That would be our senior POW officer, Colonel Hogan."

"A Colonel?" Schmidt pretended to be surprised. "In an NCO camp?"

"Yes, well, it is unusual," Klink said. "But, as you can see it has worked out. He hasn't demanded a transfer to an officer's camp, and the orders haven't come down from headquarters."

"Odd," Weis noted. "But don't mess with what works. Correct?"

Klink let out a nervous laugh. "Actually, he watches out for his men. You know," Klink said slowly, "He has actually informed me when some prisoners escaped because he didn't want them to get hurt. They were recaptured," Klink hastily added.

"Really? Most unusual behavior, wouldn't you say, Klink?"

"Well, Major, I…"

Schmidt interrupted. "I've heard from some general who passed through, that this Colonel has had the liberty of being your dinner guest on occasion."

Klink, not noticing that with this observation, the Gestapo agents obviously knew who Hogan was, responded. "Well, yes, he was invited. You see, one of his men is an excellent French chef, so…"

This time Weis interrupted. "You seem to be fraternizing quite a bit with Colonel Hogan, Klink."

"Well, I wouldn't call it fraternizing." Klink's nerves were now being severely tested as the conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn. "I often use this time for interrogating the prisoner."

Klink couldn't interrogate his way out of a box, Weis thought. He continued to press Klink. "But it seems this Colonel has accepted his fate?"

"Oh, yes, most definitely. He's been quite cooperative." Klink tried to reassure the agents.

"I'd like to meet this Colonel. Could you have someone bring him over, Klink?" Schmidt asked.

"Somehow I knew this was coming," Hogan muttered.

"You think they're after Klink, Sir?" LeBeau asked.

"Not sure. They knew I was here."

"That's right, Sir. They mentioned the generals and the dinners."

"Good pick-up, Carter." Hogan got up to leave the room. "Stay on the coffee pot."

"Will do, Sir."

Hogan opened the door moments before Schultz.

"Colonel Hogan."

"Klink wants to see me in his office."

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I…"

"No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. It's two Gestapo agents," Schultz whispered.

"Really?" Hogan said, feigning surprise.

"The big shot. He's falling all over himself. He took them on a tour of the camp!"

"No!' Hogan responded.

Meanwhile, Schmidt and Weis were continuing to get Klink to talk more about his senior POW.

"So this Colonel Hogan is cooperative? How so? Your techniques, they'd be useful to us, and the rest of the camps."

Now that the conversation had shifted away from Klink's fraternization, he again relaxed and was actually flattered.

"Firm but fair discipline," Klink said emphatically.

"Oh, brother," Newkirk said. "Flatter the man and he'll say anything."

"Yes, I can see that." Schmidt pumped Klink some more. "For example, how has Hogan cooperated?"

Klink thought. "He and two of his men agreed to make a propaganda recording, about camp conditions." Klink neglected to mention the trip into Hammelburg that was the payment.

"Ah," the two agents glanced at each other. "I don't recall hearing the broadcast," Weis said.

"The recordings were lost in a fire." Klink explained.

At that moment the door opened and Hogan sauntered in.

"Schultz said you wanted to see me. Oh, I can come back. You've got company!" Hogan started to leave.

"I asked for you, Hogan." Klink said.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Hogan acknowledged the two agents.

"Major Schmidt and Captain Weis are here to investigate our camp record," Klink said brightly.

"Lovely. It's a veritable paradise here." The sarcasm in Hogan's voice was obvious.

"How long have you been here, Colonel?" Weis asked in English, throwing in a fake German accent to keep from giving himself away as an American.

"Just over two years."

"And no successful escapes?"

Hogan shrugged. "Kommandant Klink is just too quick for us. Right, Sir? We've tried."

Schmidt moved over to the map hanging on the wall behind Klink's desk.

"I don't get it. What are these Boche after?"

The men were still listening in.

"I don't like it. 'E's going from Klink to the gov'nor." Newkirk was beginning to get concerned. The two Gestapo agents weren't acting like, well, Gestapo agents.

Hogan was now beginning to get suspicious as Schmidt still stared at the map, while Weis remained quiet.

"I understand there's been an awful lot of sabotage in this particular area, Klink." Schmidt stated.

Klink deflated. Not another Hochstetter. "Well, that's a local Gestapo matter. Major Hochstetter is the…"

"Colonel Hogan?" Schmidt ignored Klink. "This area of sabotage seems to be centered around this camp. Perhaps you have an explanation?"

"Coincidence?" Hogan took a deep breath.

Klink quickly broke in. "He couldn't have an explanation. He's a prisoner here."

Kinch slammed his fist on the table. "They're not after Klink."

"They're sounding like Hochstetter," Carter noted.

"No, they're calmer than Hochstetter." For some reason, that scared Kinch.

"He's right." Hogan said. "Just a prisoner. Can I go now?" Something about these two agents made Hogan nervous.

"Yes." That came from Klink.

"No." Schmidt moved back towards the desk. "We'd like to talk to Colonel Hogan further, Klink. Alone."

Klink responded. "Oh, regulations state that a Luftwaffe officer…"

The agents glared at Klink. "Alone!"

"I'll leave." Klink gave in.

"No, elsewhere, Klink."

"That's specifically against the Geneva Convention," Hogan started to say as Schmidt removed a pair of cuffs from his pocket and moved towards the Colonel.

"If a prisoner has contact with the Underground he is, in my book, no longer a prisoner, isn't that correct, Klink? Besides we have orders," Weis said flippantly. He handed Klink an envelope.

"Orders?"

"It's signed by General Burkhalter."

Burkhalter? What the hell is going on here? Hogan was beginning to panic internally. His gut instinct told him something was off about his whole situation, but he was obviously powerless to stop it and Klink was now useless. His mouth was hanging open like a codfish.

"They can't do that!" The four men listening on the coffee pot were thrown by the turn of events. But they quickly pulled themselves together and started their preset plan in motion. Knowing this was always a definite possibility, Hogan and his men knew how they would handle one of them being taken by the Gestapo. Of course, they had assumed Hochstetter would be the agent hauling Hogan away. Kinch immediately went below to be ready to contact the Underground, while Carter and LeBeau started to notify the Barracks leaders to be alert for evacuation orders. Newkirk continued to man the coffee pot and told Baker to man the phone tap and they waited.

"Let's go." Schmidt roughly cuffed Hogan's hands behind his back and shoved him out of the office while Klink watched helplessly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

As soon as the Gestapo car drove away with their leader in the back, Kinch asked the Underground to be on the lookout for the vehicle and trace its movements. Assuming the car was heading for Hammelburg, the boys made plans to infiltrate headquarters in disguise and get Hogan out with fake orders. For now, that was their only option.

Relieved at least that plans had been made in case of this exact scenario, Hogan settled himself uncomfortably in the backseat and glared at the agent seated next to him.

"Don't even think of trying anything," Schmidt warned. His pistol was pointed directly at the Colonel.

"I'm not exactly in the position to make a move, Major!" Hogan snapped. God, he hated handcuffs. They made him feel like a common criminal. He didn't consider himself a saint, and had even gotten himself into some scrapes as a kid, but arrested, never. And the steel cuffs were damn uncomfortable and were now tearing into his flesh. And to make matters worse, he had left his jacket and cap in the barracks and now he was cold. He shifted again and then noticed the car was not heading towards Hammelburg. It had turned off the Hammelburg road, and was heading in the direction of Düsseldorf. Hogan had a sinking feeling. His men probably had an Underground unit tracking the car, but if it drove any further, they would probably lose sight of it. That sinking feeling became dread a while later as the car came to a stop.

"Lost?" Hogan asked.

"You're a bit of a ...What do they call it?" Schmidt asked.

"Smart aleck." Weis replied.

"It helps relieve the monotony." Hogan said.

Frustrated, Kinch turned off the radio. "They lost sight of the car," he reported. "It didn't go to Hammelburg."

"Well, where was it headed?" Newkirk asked.

"Düsseldorf." Kinch said.

"We can't get to Düsseldorf! How we gonna get him out?" Carter was chomping at the bit. He was ready to put on a uniform and leave.

"There's a cell that works out of that area. We may have to ask for help." Kinch began to look through a book listing radio frequencies.

"That'll take longer. God knows what they'll do to him, Kinch." Carter was trying not to imagine the possibilities.

"I know. I know. But we have no choice, and we don't even know if that's where he'll end up." Kinch added.

Schmidt and Weis were now planning on backtracking a bit in order to avoid patrols or the Underground. But first they needed a chance to speak privately, and they also wanted to throw Hogan's equilibrium off before starting their questioning. Neither agent was surprised at Hogan's smart mouth, as their investigations had already revealed this tendency.

"You find this experience monotonous, Hogan?" Schmidt asked.

"I could think of other things I'd rather be doing."

"Well, this should relieve some of your boredom." Schmidt removed a syringe from his pocket.

Although he realized it was futile, Hogan instinctively edged closer to the door. "I'm getting more interested," he said, but he watched helplessly as Schmidt plunged the needle into his arm.

"He's out," Boswell announced a few minutes later. He removed Hogan's cuffs.

"All right. Let's get moving and get him settled." Garrett started the car and drove towards their safe house. On the way, they discussed their next move and their thoughts about their visit to Stalag 13.

"It really doesn't fit. The camp doesn't look escape-proof." Boswell pointed out. "And Klink!"

"I'd be scared to have him on my side," Garrett joked. "I can't believe the Germans put up with him. It's got to be his record."

"I think Hogan's been feeding him information or something. He has to have something to do with the escape situation, that's for sure." Boswell said.

The two agents arrived at the house where they were met by the three men who would guard the Colonel while he was there. With their help, they moved him inside to a small room, outfitted with a bed, chair and small table. They laid him on the bed and then dismissed the guards. After removing Hogan's shirt and belt, they carefully checked him over for any signs of abuse. "Looks well-fed for a prisoner," Boswell commented.

Not seeing anything obvious, they replaced the shirt and left Hogan alone in the room to sleep off the drug.

"Two years in the camp. If he was tortured after he was captured, there may not be any scars." Garrett was unwilling to leave any stone unturned.

"He could have been tortured last month for all we know. They can do a lot of damage and leave no sign." Boswell reminded him.

This was one of their main concerns. Hogan may have turned or been brainwashed, due to torture or experimentation, while at the transit camp. It had happened before. If they had any doubts, they decided to bring the Colonel back to England and let the psychiatrists sort it out. Otherwise, they still hoped the reports were wrong.

When Hogan woke several hours later, he was genuinely surprised that he was not in a cell. Checking his pockets, he discovered that his wallet was still there, but anything he could have used as a weapon or to harm himself was gone. His watch was also missing. He got off the bed and decided to sweep the room. Starting with the door, which was, of course, locked from the other side, he carefully went over every inch. He proceeded to examine the room from top to bottom for signs of bugs, peepholes or a way out. The small washroom that was attached to the room held nothing useful, although he was startled to see a towel, washcloth and a bar of soap. What, no toothbrush? The mirror had been removed. He used the chair to check the top of the walls and the single light bulb that was hanging in the middle of the ceiling. There had been a window, but that had been cemented over. Satisfied that the room was clean, he walked over to the table and contemplated the sandwich, cup and canteen of water that had been left there.

What is this, the kinder, gentler Gestapo? Hogan hadn't eaten since breakfast and he was hungry and thirsty. Taking a chance that the Gestapo wouldn't drug him twice before asking a single question, Hogan ate the sandwich and drank a cup of water. He then lay back down on the bed, stared at the ceiling and waited for the inevitable.

Kinch, who was now dejected, came up through the bunk entrance. "The car didn't show up at the Dusseldorf headquarters."

"I can't believe this. It should have been there by now." LeBeau shook his head. He was now extremely worried.

"Where the 'ell did they take him? Almost two years and nothin' bad 'appens and now we don't have any idea where 'e is."

"No, but we know where he didn't go." Kinch said. "Let's see if we can figure this out." He brought down a map. "They lost track of the car somewhere in this area. We know it must have turned off before the tracks or one of the lookouts would have spotted it."

"So that leaves the road heading toward Dusseldorf, but he never made it there," Carter pointed out.

"Right."

"So, they didn't take him to a Gestapo headquarters. It's like finding a needle in a haystack."

"Maybe the car was ambushed," LeBeau said hopefully. "And he hasn't found a way to contact us yet."

"I'll have Baker contact Dusseldorf and tell them to concentrate on the area between the turnoff and the city. See if they can come up with anything suspicious." Kinch started to head for his bunk.

"We have the names of the agents. Maybe they work out of that area. They didn't tell Klink where they were from," LeBeau said.

"Burkhalter! They said 'e signed those orders." Newkirk said.

"That's it!" Kinch said. "If he signed the orders he has to know where they went. Let's go." The four men headed down below to get on the radio.

"You know," Carter mused. "Burkhalter hates the Gestapo. Why would he turn the Colonel over to them without questioning him first? It doesn't make sense."

Hogan got up as he heard the door unlock and open. As Weis and Schmidt entered the room, Hogan noticed the two guards standing outside the open door. Weis grabbed the chair and ordered Hogan to take a seat. Hogan complied and then glowered at the Gestapo officer as he cuffed one of Hogan's hands to the arm of the chair.

"I see you ate. It was satisfactory?"

"Adequate," Hogan replied.

"Good."

Weis decided not to question Hogan's behavior at the camp just yet. He thought it would be more interesting to question him about the sabotage and gauge his reactions. A friendly contact in the Munich Gestapo office had provided them with a list and the name of a suspected leader.

"Sabotage. Over a hundred acts in a two year period in the area surrounding Hammelburg, which includes your prison camp."

"Good record." Hogan stated. "Whoever's doing it should win an efficiency award."

"Coincidence. I think that's what you called it back at the camp." Weis moved closer to the chair. "I think not."

Hogan was uncomfortable, but refused to show it. "Why, what would you call it, Captain?"

"Do you have contact with the Hammelburg underground, Hogan?"

"No. I told you, I'm in a prison camp."

"Perhaps you've seen things, gathered information. I hear you spend quite a bit of time with that Kommandant. You see things and pass the information on to someone." Weis produced a sheet of paper and began to read. "Troop movements are suddenly attacked without warning,, rocket launchers are destroyed after being repositioned, tanks destroyed, six bridges destroyed, ball-bearing plant blown up, munitions factory blown up,,,"

"You got me!" Hogan said. "I break into Klink's safe. I get the information, then, later I use Klink's office and ask the secretary to dial out to the local Underground for me. You see, they frown on having a phone or radio in the barracks." Hogan braced himself and was a little surprised when the blows failed to appear. Both agents stifled a laugh at the Colonel's attempt at humor.

"Who do you call, Hogan? This Papa Bear?" Schmidt asked.

Hogan stiffened for a brief moment. The agents noticed his change in posture, but said nothing.

"What do you think I do in there, Major? I spend most of my time trying to figure out how to keep 900 men from going insane from boredom while feeding them on crummy rations and Red Cross packages!" Hogan sounded angry.

Schmidt and Weis glanced at each other, and then Weis made a notation in his notebook.

Hogan wiped his forehead with his one free hand, as he was beginning to sweat. He decided to adjust his strategy and keep quiet to see what would happen.

Weis noticed the almost imperceptible change in his subject's nerves. He decided to throw a few more red herrings out before changing his tactics and beginning with the real subject. "Who's your contact?"

Hogan kept silent. He's fishing. They have no real evidence, he thought. But then why would Burkhalter have signed those orders?

The men gathered around Kinch as he placed the call to General Burkhalter's headquarters. "This is General Kinchmeyer. I need to speak with General Burkhalter about a small matter." They waited as the call was transferred. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Burkhalter, Kinch asked about the orders Burkhalter had signed. "I need to get in touch with the two Gestapo agents, Schmidt and Weis. They took that Colonel from Stalag 13. What was his name again?" Kinch pretended to speak with an aide. "Oh, yes. Hogan. Since you signed the orders, General, I figured you know what office they are working out of? Yes, Stalag 13. No, I don't know why they removed the prisoner. What? I see. Thank you, General. Heil Hitler." Shocked, Kinch hung up the phone. "He never signed the orders. They were forged."

To say Hogan was relieved when the two agents abandoned their questioning for the time being was an understatement. They again left him alone in the room, unscathed and wondering when the shoe was going to drop. The unexpected lack of physical abuse was testing his preconceived notions of Gestapo behavior. He had heard horror stories from both the Underground and contacts back in England. Previous close contact with the Gestapo back at Stalag 13 did not leave him with a warm and fuzzy feeling. Klink was obviously terrified of them, and Hochstetter…well, their local Gestapo goon seemed one ace short of a full deck. So Hogan came to a logical conclusion. The agents were biding their time and would turn extremely unpleasant when frustrated, or they had a secret technique up their sleeve, or they weren't from the Gestapo. He couldn't do much of anything about scenario one or two. If that was the case, he would have to hold out as long as he could and pray that Kinch had ordered the evacuation. But Hogan thought long and hard about scenario three. His gut told him that something about the entire situation seemed off.

Boswell and Weis left the guards outside Hogan's door, and then moved outside to compare notes.

"He knows something about the Underground. Did you see his reaction? And his little quip, about the secretary?" Boswell still thought that was funny.

"Coping mechanism." Garrett stated. "Fits his profile. He's nervous about something."

"Well, that's not a surprise," Boswell pointed out. "He's a pilot, not an intelligence agent."

"But it's never enough. You can't duplicate what these bastards would really do."

"If he knows something about the Underground or this Papa Bear, he may have already spilled something if he's sold out."

"Or he's just cooperating to make his life easier. Gets better food; goes into town."

"While the rest of the prisoners suffer. I don't know what would be more disgusting. "

"You know. I'm still not convinced. Not enough to go on, yet. You?"

Boswell agreed. "Nope. I think we should throw him a curve. See how he reacts to a threat against the other prisoners and then switch over to talking about Klink. You know if he's really a sell-out, he may let something slip to make himself look good or to get us to back off."

"It's a good thing it's us, then, and not the real Gestapo." Garrett concluded.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

The next morning, or at least Hogan assumed it was, the agents burst into the room and caught Hogan dozing on the bed. This time they were a bit more physical, dragging him over to the chair and uncomfortably cuffing both hands behind his back.

"Hey, all you had to do was ask," he protested.

"You've heard of this Papa Bear?" Schmidt demanded. "Perhaps you've had contact with him?"

"Yeah," Hogan replied. "And the wolf, the witch, and the rest of the bunch. We had dinner. Porridge. It was cold. What's with the fairy tales?" He asked.

Weis chuckled. "You're a real comedian, aren't you?"

"It's a calling." Hogan snapped.

"You know, I'm thinking of heading back to where we plucked you from and getting some help," Schmidt said patiently. "Perhaps one of the other prisoners might be more cooperative."

Hogan stayed quiet.

"Someone from your barracks," Schmidt continued. "There are two corporals, I believe, that may be willing to talk. Newkirk and LeBeau."

"I told you I don't know anything about the Underground, and neither do my men!"

This back and forth continued until Hogan just blatantly refused to answer any more questions. Surprisingly, the two agents left him sitting in the chair. Schmidt paused, went over to the door and told a guard to bring the prisoner something to eat. Several minutes later, Schmidt had unlocked the cuffs and watched as Hogan tentatively ate another sandwich.

"Here." Weis brought over a cup of water. "Drink it," he ordered. When Hogan was finished, Weis placed the empty plate and cup on the desk and then recuffed the now thoroughly confused Colonel.

Schmidt continued with the questioning. "We had an interesting conversation with your Kommandant, Colonel. How many times have you joined the Kommandant and his guest for dinner in his quarters?"

Hogan mentally counted six or seven times at least and several of those dinners had resulted in stolen plans or maps. "I don't know. Ask Klink."

"Unusual, wouldn't you say, for a prisoner to sit at a dinner table with the enemy and his company?"

"I was ordered, and my men were ordered to work at the dinners," Hogan replied.

"That's not what we heard. Apparently you have a habit of volunteering the services of your men, particularly this LeBeau, in exchange for favors."

"Electricity, extra blankets, extra rations. Check the other camps. I bet it's a common practice."

"Work details, maybe. But dinners? A nice amount of fraternization between you and this Klink, Hogan."

"What?"

"You and your men, Newkirk and LeBeau enjoyed an evening in Hammelburg after making a propaganda recording. (1) You also had dinner with Klink and General Burkhalter and two lovely young frauleins." (2)

Both times Hogan had slipped information to a courier. Had he been spotted? Concerned again that someone had talked, he kept his mouth shut.

"In exchange for information, Hogan?"

Fraternization, information. Now Hogan thought back to the accusations in Klink's office. Were these guys after Klink for being soft? Nah, couldn't be. Why take him, then? But, if so, he couldn't let them get Klink. The Kommandant was too crucial to their operation.

"We took a look at that camp. Seems like it has some design flaws. An officer of your rank, all those men. Surprising that Klink can keep his perfect record." Weis pointed out.

Klink had already faced Burkhalter's wrath over the telephone. He had no idea the General's signature was forged. And who was he to argue with Gestapo agents? Now he meekly sat in his chair and tried to put up with Hochstetter. He was having enough problems trying to keep the prisoners quiet. After all, they were quite upset. Hogan's aide, that Sergeant Kinchloe, had even demanded a meeting with him the previous evening, and asked if he was planning on pressing for the Colonel's return. Personally, he would have liked nothing better for Hogan to return unharmed. Everything seemed to run more smoothly when he was around.

"So, Klink. Two men claiming to be Gestapo agents entered the camp, and then produced forged papers authorizing the removal of one of your prisoners for questioning." Hochstetter was secretly amused that someone had managed to forge Burkhalter's signature, but he was outraged at the violation of his authority over this jurisdiction. Besides, if anyone would question Hogan, it would be him, eventually.

"Yes, Major. But first, they asked for a tour of the camp."

"I see. What kind of car were they driving, Klink?"

"The usual Gestapo staff car, Major."

Hochstetter ordered his assistant to call and check on stolen vehicles.

"Did Berlin confirm that these men were from the Gestapo?" Klink asked.

"No, Klink. It will take time. But they're not Gestapo."

"Not Gestapo." Klink repeated.

"We wouldn't bother to forge orders. If we wanted your prisoner, Klink, we would just take him."

"Lovely, isn't 'e?" Newkirk added his two cents. He and Carter were listening in on the conversation, while Kinch was on the radio updating Underground units.

"No, I don't suppose you would." Klink started to fiddle with a pencil. "If they aren't Gestapo, then who are they?"

Hochstetter began to pace back and forth and then snapped his fingers. "Abwehr."

"But what would they want with Colonel Hogan?" Klink asked.

"Bah. Shut up. I'm thinking."

"I'll shut up." Klink whined.

"Nerves of steel, that one." Newkirk commented again.

"There is another possibility, Klink."

"Yes."

"Hogan arranged it."

"You're joking."

"I never joke."

"No, you never joke."

"It's all part of an elaborate scheme to smuggle him out of camp and get him back to England." Hochstetter said triumphantly.

"I wish that was the case," Carter muttered.

"Wolfie's gone off the deep end." Newkirk added.

Klink came to Hogan's defense. "No, I don't believe it."

"And why don't you believe it, Klink?" Hochstetter was now in the Kommandant's face, unnerving Klink even further.

"He wouldn't abandon his men."

"That's our Kommandant! 'E knows our Colonel."

"How touching." Hochstetter headed for the door. "We'll check on the car and ask around. If he's still in Germany, he's probably somewhere in the area. It wouldn't make sense for whoever took him to travel far."

"Checkpoints?" Klink asked.

"And Underground units. They've been known to ambush our cars." The Gestapo major left, slamming the door behind him.

"Those dinners. He's hiding something." Boswell and Garrett were taking a quick break. Garrett was now getting suspicious.

"I'm pretty sure of one thing," Boswell said. "I don't think he's been brainwashed. He's too calculating."

"Look, we can't raise the threat level. We know we won't carry through with it." Garrett then made a decision. "Let's go with the drugs. It's worth a shot."

Hogan was now convinced that the agents were using psychological tactics to get information about the operation by pegging him as a coward or traitor. Well it wouldn't work. He could care less what they thought of him. Confident that he had figured out their game, he relaxed a bit and thought about ways to get out of this mess. Frankly, he couldn't think of anything at the moment and his biggest fear was that these agents would either tire of him or give up and turn him over to others for more conventional methods of persuasion. Maybe they would take him to Gestapo headquarters and he would be lucky and be spotted, then rescued. He laughed at himself. He'd have to be the luckiest man in Germany for that to happen. Besides, he had no idea where he was. He wasn't sure these guys were even from the Gestapo and Kinch had most likely closed up shop by now.

The door opened. "Don't get up," Weis ordered, as he and Schmidt strolled in.

Hogan tensed as he saw the agents were accompanied by two of the guards. He didn't listen and started to roll off the bed. "It's not polite to stay in bed for company," he quipped.

"Lie back down." Weis removed his gun.

Hogan held up his hands. "All right. Take it easy. Now what?"

"Cuff him." The guards attached each arm to the bed frame, then left. "Your answers, Colonel, have not been satisfactory or believable. This morning, we will try a different method. Sodium Pentothal."

Oh Christ! Truth serum. Hogan's only experience with the drug had been as an observer. They had used it on Schultz to get a factory location, but it hadn't worked as expected. Schultz had a one-track mind, a track that always led to food and that's what he had divulged. Information about a kitchen. But their contact knew of agents who had given up vital information under the drug. (3) He wished the Allies had tested the drug on them during interrogation training, but they hadn't. Hell, he wished they had tested it on themselves back at camp. Now he had no idea what would happen and he was trapped. "Good, I need some dental work," Hogan cracked, although he was secretly terrified.

"You never fail to amuse me, Colonel. Relax." Weis injected the serum. "Trust me, you won't remember anything, now start counting."

"Go to hell," Hogan replied, as he kept urging himself silently to fight. "Using drugs on prisoners is against the…" The what? He couldn't remember.

In less than thirty seconds, Hogan was under the effect of the drug. Knowing they had to work fast, the agents immediately began their questioning.

"Hogan, tell me how many times you've tried to escape from Stalag 13?"

"Escape? No escapes."

"As an officer, isn't it your duty to escape?"

"No escapes. Orders."

"Orders? Whose orders? Yours?"

"My orders. Klink's record."

"You care about Klink's record?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Klink needs to keep his job."

"What about the other prisoners?"

"The other prisoners?"

"Are they under those orders not to escape?"

"Too dangerous," Hogan replied.

"Did you turn some of them in, Colonel?"

"Yes, not safe. Didn't want them hurt."

"Do you have a pro-German attitude, Hogan?"

Hogan appeared confused. "Pro-German? No."

"Klink seems to think so. Enough to wine and dine you."

Hogan let out a small laugh.

Schmidt motioned to his watch. The drug had a short life and they had to move.

"Did you feed the Germans information in exchange for special privileges?"

"They decorated my quarters." Hogan laughed again. "And coffee and pastries. With Klink."

"You and two of your men agreed make a propaganda recording."

"Yes. Had dinner out of camp. Got burnt in a fire."

"Are you and Klink involved in the black market, Hogan?" Weis got no response. He shook the Colonel, but Hogan had fallen asleep.

"Interesting," Weis stated. "Let him sleep it off." They removed the cuffs and left the room.

Hogan woke up and, for several minutes, he had no idea where he was or what had happened. Within fifteen minutes, the fog began to lift and he recalled everything up to the point of being cuffed to the bed. Then the faucet opened and his memory came flooding back, but only to a degree. No matter how hard he tried, he had no idea what he had divulged while under the drug.

Well, at least they didn't shoot me right here, he thought to himself. Despite the food and lack of physical abuse, his captivity had now left him tired, a little weak and very irritated. By no means was the Colonel suicidal, but he was beginning to wonder if it was time to make a break for it and see what would happen. The use of drugs had removed any semblance of control and he dreaded a repeat performance.

Boswell and Garrett had again stepped outside to compare notes.

"You know Garrett, I was a bit surprised at how well the truth serum worked. It seemed like he was more than willing to answer anything. I thought we would see some kind of internal struggle, for sure."

Garrett agreed with his partner. "Yeah, it was surprising. What have we got? Klink's record. He cares about the no-escape record."

"Wants to keep him there, I suppose."

"I think he's stringing this guy along to get favors, maybe better treatment."

"For himself or everyone?"

"Not sure. He may be working with a few other prisoners. Maybe LeBeau and Newkirk."

"Possible."

"It doesn't jive with his previous record." Garrett pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. All right. Let's go over this. Klink's Luftwaffe. Old school. Follows the Geneva Convention. Not too bright. This hotshot Colonel gets shot down. Stellar record. Mouthy. Known for being daring. Spends two years in Klink's camp. No escapes. Gets cozy with the Kommandant. Why?"

"Threat to other prisoners? No threat that we can see."

"He wasn't scared of Klink, that's for sure."

"You know he knows something about the local Underground. I'll bet on it, but how much?"

"But he hasn't turned them in."

"Hasn't used them to bail out of there, either."

"A sell-out who wants to sit out the war in comfort, with Klink."

"With Klink. It's possible the two of them may have a little business on the side. Black market?"

"Or selling information? Maybe there's a Swiss bank account out there somewhere."

"Frankly, I'd like to get this guy back to England and let the army lawyers sort it out. I think it's time we had one last go at the Colonel."

Hogan heard the bolt move and before the door opened, he flung himself onto the bed and pretended to be asleep. Weis entered the room and ordered the Colonel to get up. Getting no response, he motioned for his guard who, with his gun drawn, headed for the bed and shook the Colonel's body. Hogan, pretending to be woozy, slowly sat up and with a quick move that astonished everyone in the room, including himself, managed to knock the pistol out of the guards' hand. Unfortunately, his scramble for the weapon ended in failure, as Schmidt stood in the way.

"Feisty, aren't we?" he said, his pistol pointed directly at Hogan's chest. "Sit down!" Again, Hogan had no choice but to comply. Now securely attached to the chair, he sighed and slumped in defeat.

Newkirk and Carter climbed down into the tunnel to check on Kinch's progress and bring everyone up-to-date on the meeting between Klink and Hochstetter.

"Anything?" Carter asked anxiously.

"Nothing from the cells and nothing from London. The only thing I'm sure of is that these goons must be after information. Otherwise, they would have come in and thrown us in front of a firing squad, no questions."

"Or taken more of us." LeBeau added. "Hochstetter has a point, Kinch. Why risk a long drive?"

"All right. Let's assume they didn't go too far. They're not at Gestapo headquarters."

"Not at Abwehr headquarters, either. We checked," LeBeau pointed out.

"So they took him somewhere between here," Kinch had grabbed a map and pointed to a road, "And the turn off."

"The further they drove, the more chance they'd run into partisans or a checkpoint." Carter noted. "So I think we should start to search closer first, and then spread out."

"That's the best we can do." Kinch sighed. "And it's going to take time. We only have a few agents to send out."

"Well, this area's not heavily populated. Remember?" LeBeau reminded the group. "It's mainly farmland."

"Hopefully someone will spot the car." Kinch went back on the radio. "And hopefully, the Colonel can hold out."

(1) "Axis Annie"

(2) "Top Hat, White Tie, and Bomb Sight"

(3) "At Last-Schultz Knows Something"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

The reports from the Underground were not encouraging. They were conducting a grid by grid search and reporting back to Kinch when a section was completed. But they could only go as fast as their manpower would allow, while at the same time avoiding the Gestapo. Meanwhile, Carter had quickly wired the tunnels, as per orders, and Newkirk had a rescue team at the ready, in case luck would turn their way.

"All right. It's time to lay it on the line here." Suddenly, Schmidt had switched to his normal accent. "We're not Gestapo. We're from Military Intelligence. You're being investigated as a traitor, Colonel."

"You've got to do better than that," Hogan responded. He was able to switch accents in a heartbeat. The trick was not impressive; in fact, most of his men could pull off the same feat. "Prove it," he said.

The agents pulled out various IDs and papers.

"That's nothing. Those could be forged." In fact, Hogan's forgery department had made up similar identification papers. He thought his looked a bit better, actually.

"Listen to me," Schmidt urged, "We're not lying. Look, there's been a report of possible collaboration between you and that Kommandant of yours. Did you give up Allied military information, Colonel?"

"Or receive favors?" Weis broke in. "Make your life a little cushier, while the men suffer?"

The two agents kept pressing. They brought up the lack of successful escapes. "Come on. You could be be in a lot of trouble, Colonel. We're taking you back to England. Talking now might make it easier for you." Weis waited for a response.

Hogan still wasn't buying it. He now became utterly convinced that the agents were attempting to anger him to the point he would admit to the sabotage, being Papa Bear, anything. This only fortified his resolve and he stayed quiet. On the other hand, to the agents, the Colonel's silence spoke volumes.

They left the room, leaving Hogan cuffed to the chair. As he was contemplating the latest turn in events, Boswell and Garrett started to prepare for the next step; leaving the country with Hogan in tow. As soon as they decided to pack up shop and leave the following morning, they began to burn files and make contact with other safe houses.

Once Hogan was alone, he began to think. If the agents were really from Military Intelligence, he could go back to England with them and straighten everything out once they got there. No, he decided. That possibility was just ludicrous. He couldn't figure out why anyone on their side would suspect he was a collaborator. Yes, he figured, they had to be lying. A while later, Weis came into the room with another sandwich. He released one of Hogan's hands. "Don't you have anything else to eat around here?" Hogan complained. "I'm getting sick of the sandwiches."

"You're lucky we are feeding you." Weis handed Hogan a cup of water. He then pointed his gun at his prisoner. "I don't know why you don't believe us, Colonel. However, it really doesn't matter now." He called in the guards, removed Hogan's cuffs and ordered him over to the bed. "As punishment for your attempted escape earlier, I'll have to sedate you again." The Colonel put up another struggle, but was no match for three men. The guards held him down, while Weis injected the sedative. "This should keep you out of commission for a good long while, Colonel. You see, we have preparations to make."

Both Hochstetter's men and the Underground were now scouring the countryside, looking for the Gestapo vehicle or anything else that would arouse suspicion. Fortunately, the Underground was quite a bit more unobtrusive. That night; however, the increased Gestapo activity was noticed by one of the guards assisting the two American agents, and he quickly reported his concern.

"They've been asking questions in stores, checking buildings, and they're looking for the car." he told them.

"That's not good. Somehow Klink must have become suspicious." Boswell started to head for the radio. "At least we switched cars, but I think we should call the Underground."

Weis and Schmidt entered Hogan's room and waved smelling salts under his nose. Hogan coughed and slowly began to wake up. "Change of plans, Colonel." Schmidt slapped him. "Come on, we're leaving." The agents dragged him out of the bed.

"Where are we…?"

"Never mind. Move." They left the house and for the first time in a few days, Hogan had an inkling of the time. It was dark, and by the position of the moon, he figured it was almost midnight. The guards that had been in and out of the house were now gone. Weis cuffed Hogan again, shoved him into the back of the car and then sat down next to his prisoner, pistol at the ready. Schmidt took the front seat and drove off. Although it was dark, Hogan could make out features of the landscape and within several minutes, realized he was only about 20 kilometers from Stalag 13. He leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes and tried to calm his nerves. He had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't survive the night.

Baker had been manning the radio, when the call came in from Carla, a member of a local Hammelburg cell that had previously assisted the men with the destruction of an atomic research facility. He quickly notified the rest of the team and described the conversation.

"She received a message from an intelligence agent. He and his partner are trapped by the Gestapo investigation and are looking for a place to hole up. He said they had an important package and they all needed to get to England."

"What kind of package?" Lebeau asked suspiciously.

"Didn't say. But Carla said they had the correct recognition code for this week, plus the correct transmitter signal."

"With what's been going on around here, it sounds like it could be a setup," Carter pointed out.

"Yes, but what if it's not. The Colonel would want to help these guys out."

"If they've been in the area, maybe they've seen something, if they're really who they say they are."

"I say we go out and get them," Kinch said, "But with backup."

The men agreed.

Baker contacted Carla and passed on the instructions for a recognition code and a pick-up point.

The men decided that four of them would meet the car, plus four other prisoners would be hidden in the area, ready to back them up in case of an ambush. The pickup point was a road located about an eighth of a mile from the emergency tunnel entrance. The area had been cleared by the Gestapo and would hopefully be safe in the middle of the night.

"'Ere it comes," Newkirk whispered. The car flashed the headlights three times as planned and Newkirk answered back with his flashlight. Newkirk and Carter moved on to the side of the road, pistols drawn.

Schmidt slowly opened the door, stepped away from the car and approached the men. "I have a package," he said quietly.

"You shouldn't be out on the road at night," Newkirk replied.

"It has to go out or it will spoil," Schmidt said.

Newkirk let out a sigh. "You need a room for the night, mate?"

"Yeah. Bit jumpy around here," Schmidt noted.

"It's been a tough week." Carter gestured towards the car, while Olsen and LeBeau came out of the shadows. "Your package?"

"It's a prisoner. He's in the back with my partner."

"Defector?"LeBeau asked.

"You can say that."

"All right. Go back to the car. Tell him to come out, slowly," Newkirk ordered. "Keep your hands out where I can see them."

Schmidt nodded and started to walk back to the car.

"Wait." Carter stopped him. "Your partner. Does he have his gun out?"

"Yes."

"Your prisoner secure?" Carter asked.

"Cuffed."

"Have your partner come out first. Tell him to toss us that gun. We'll cover him. Then your package."

The agents, who had no choice, obeyed Carter's orders.

All Hogan knew during this exchange was that the agents were making some kind of arrangement, probably to have him transferred, or worse. Weis had forced him onto the floor of the car, once it had stopped, and now Hogan could not even move. He strained to hear the conversation, but could not make anything out.

Weis did as he was told and then roughly pulled Hogan out of the car. At first, the Colonel could not believe what he was seeing and neither could the men from the camp.

"Newkirk? Carter?"

"Colonel?"

"Colonel!"

Within seconds, eight guns were trained on the two agents, as the prisoners waiting in the bushes as backup left their posts and scrambled onto the road.

"Get me out of these things!" Hogan ordered.

"Throw me the keys." Newkirk said as he headed for the car.

"What the hell is going on here?" Schmidt yelled.

"The keys!" Newkirk repeated.

"The Colonel's your package?" Carter asked in a confused voice.

Newkirk caught the keys and quickly freed his commanding officer. "Sir, are you all right?"

"Yeah." Hogan said.

"These aren't Gestapo, Colonel."

Hogan sighed, "I sort of figured, Carter."

"Hold it!" This time Weis attempted to get their attention.

"You're in no position to say anything." Lebeau had stepped into the confusion. "What were you doing with Colonel Hogan handcuffed in the car?"

"Sir, I think we should get out of here," Newkirk warned. "The Gestapo is all over the place looking for these two impostors."

"Use their own cuffs on those two and blindfold them," Hogan said. "You two, hide the car." He pointed to two of the prisoners. "Let's get out of here."

"Boy, Sir!" Carter exclaimed. "We were almost ready to abandon camp. The wires were set, and then we got this call."

"Carter, wait until we get into the barracks, please."

"Sorry. Yes, Sir. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Move it!" Olsen and LeBeau were guiding the two blindfolded agents.

"Where the hell are we?"

"Quiet!" Olsen said as he gave them a push.

Hogan and then several men headed down into the tunnel and the two confused agents followed. The rest of the team brought up the rear. Kinch and Baker, hearing the commotion, were flabbergasted when they saw Hogan come down the ladder.

"Yeah, I know. What the hell is going on?"

"Colonel , you okay? We had no idea where you were at…"

"Later." Hogan said. He waited for Weis and Schmidt to descend the ladder. "Who the hell are you? No, wait. Kinch, how did you find out they were heading to that point? Who was supposed to be meeting them?"

"We were, sir. The Underground received a coded message asking for help in arranging a hiding place for two agents and a package. You see, the Gestapo was out looking for the two agents that took you out of Klink's office."

"We said that," Weis said. "You're the package!"

"Shut up!" Hogan said. "Kinch, back up."

"When these two took you out of camp, we assumed the car was heading towards the headquarters in Hammelburg. But the Underground lost sight of it when it turned off towards Düsseldorf. Düsseldorf reported it never showed. We assumed Burkhalter knew something because he signed the orders."

"He never signed those orders, did he?" Hogan asked.

"No," Kinch continued. General Kinchmeyer called. Burkhalter said his signature was forged. He called Klink. He yelled at Klink. Klink called in Hochstetter. We had the Underground looking for you, Sir."

"And the Gestapo!" Carter added. "I mean they were looking for the impostors. We figured if they found them, they would find you."

"Where the hell are we?"

"Under Stalag 13." Hogan snapped.

"What the hell is going on here? Weis repeated.

"Okay." Hogan stared at the two men, who were now seated uncomfortably in two chairs with their hands cuffed behind them. "Start talking fast."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Hogan and the other men stared intensely at the agents, who, as they shifted uncomfortably in their seats, familiarized themselves with their surroundings. Expecting a small, claustrophic tunnel, both were astonished at the size and scope of the excavation. Hogan angrily repeated his order. "Start talking."

Boswell figured he had no choice. "Like I told you at the house, Colonel, we're from Military Intelligence."

"Well, that seems to be an oxymoron, doesn't it?" A few of the men snickered at Hogan's quip. "Where did you get the radio frequency and the recognition code from?" Hogan was still a little woozy from the sedative and he grabbed hold of the table to steady himself. Kinch whispered something to one of the men who had gone to meet the car. The prisoner then disappeared into another section of the tunnels.

"We were given it to use in case of emergencies." Garrett answered. "Hey, what is going on, here?"

"Never mind. I'm asking the questions now. Who gave it to you?"

"Military Intelligence. Hodges is our control agent. He got the assignment from General Agee."

"What are your real names?" Hogan demanded.

"Todd Boswell "

"Mitch Garrett."

"Kinch, get on the radio. Try to get some verification. LeBeau, can you get me some coffee?" Hogan already had a headache from caffeine withdrawal, plus he felt that he was not completely thinking straight, due to the drugs.

"Oui." He headed up the ladder.

"Carter, get me a chair, no, strike that. I've had enough of chairs." Hogan started to pace.

"Sir, what's been going on the last few days?"

"These two bozos, masquerading as Gestapo, dragged me out of Klink's office, threw me in a car, drugged me, questioned me, drugged me again, and I still don't know what I said, then questioned me again. Why? On whose orders? Why did you contact the Underground?" The Colonel did not realize he was repeating himself.

"The Gestapo was closing in and we had to get us all back to England, like we said, for your Court Martial. And who are you calling a bozo? I'll have you know, Colonel, that we have completed numerous successful missions inside Germany." Garrett came to his own defense. "Why, when you flyboys were up there dropping your bombs, we were disguised…"

"Court Martial! The gov'nor?" Newkirk shouted."Why you…"

"Newkirk!" Hogan's look held back the Corporal. "Apparently these two think I'm some kind of sellout or collaborator. Am I close?"

Still a bit unsure of their new place in the scheme of things and with no place to go, the two agents now remained quiet.

"I think they are the collaborators, Colonel." LeBeau had come back with the coffee. He handed it to Hogan who gratefully took a sip.

"Thanks, LeBeau. Now…"Hogan let out an annoyed sigh, as he spotted Wilson coming down the corridor. "I said I was fine."

"Glad you're back, Sir. Heard you seemed a little shaky." Wilson gave the two agents a nasty look. "What did you do to him? Here, Colonel, sit down before you fall." The medic grabbed a chair. "Well?" Wilson glared at the agents.

"They didn't do anything, Wilson." Hogan obeyed the medic and sat down. "It was just a sedative."

"We woke him up too fast." Boswell explained. "You see, we had to leave because the Gestapo was closing in."

Wilson grabbed the Colonel's coffee. "You don't want to be drinking this, then. Someone get him some water. You need to flush the drug out of your system." Wilson handed the cup to LeBeau. "And get the Colonel something to eat, while you're at it."

"Wilson." Hogan watched the coffee disappear. "I need the coffee," he pleaded.

"Later, Sir." Wilson, satisfied, stepped back to watch the rest of the fireworks, while the whole exchange left Boswell and Garrett wondering who was actually in charge.

Kinch then returned and informed Hogan that London was working on his questions and that they would get back to them. "They had no idea what I was talking about, but they did confirm someone passed the code and frequency to someone else with top level security clearance." The Sergeant then left to monitor the radio.

"London?" Boswell asked. "Who are you talking to?"

"Special Ops. Now start talking," Hogan insisted. "Or I'll use truth serum on you. We have our own supply."

"Like we said, someone observed some strange goings -on around here."

"Who?"

"That I don't know. It was reported, got investigated, particularly the no-escape record, and eventually the brass got concerned enough that they called us."

"How long ago was this?" Hogan asked.

"Two months ago. It took us time to get back into Germany, get the rest of our team, make inquiries, find the house and get ready."

"You were told to investigate me?" Hogan stated. "For…"

"Signs of brainwashing, collaboration, or an actual defection."

"And what were you planning on doing with what you found?"

"Well, one way or another, Colonel, you were going back to England. Thought you'd be glad about that," Boswell muttered. He didn't think it was wise to say they had orders to take Hogan out if necessary.

"Great! How am I supposed to explain how I got back here? And what idiot started this mess?" The Colonel was still repeating himself.

"Explain how you got back here?" Now both agents were utterly confused. "Isn't this your escape tunnel?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Hogan's headache was rapidly getting worse. "No. We are all stationed here. You concluded I had turned, didn't you? Wilson, do you have some aspirin?"

"Well, some of the things you said during our questioning made us suspicious," Garrett explained. "Plus you said some odd things under the truth serum. What do you mean you're stationed here?"

"You didn't care about the Underground at all did you? You know you two had me convinced you were trying to get me so angry I would admit to working with the Underground. I thought you were Germans. Wait, what did I say under the truth serum?" Hogan stood up and moved closer to the agents. "Well?"

Garrett gulped. "You were actually quite cooperative, which surprised us. You admitted to having coffee with Klink, making propaganda recordings, going into town, and there was something about your office being redecorated. For some reason you thought that was funny," Garrett added. "And you admitted to not allowing any escapes. Something about Klink keeping his job."

"You cooperated, Sir, because what they were asking you wouldn't compromise our operation." Wilson had been listening and was fascinated by the whole scenario. "I think if they had gone further, you probably would have intuitively made something up or just passed out. I've been doing some research on this stuff, and it's not as reliable as they once thought."

"What operation?" Boswell asked. He was getting frustrated. Now, no one seemed to be paying any attention to him and his partner. "Hello, we're still here!"

Kinch returned. "Sir, someone woke up Agee. And they are who they say they are."

"And…"

"Well, he wasn't happy about being woken up in the middle of the night."

"Oh, boy." Carter whispered. "Wait for it."

Hogan took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "Uncuff them."

"Yes, Sir." Newkirk released the two agents.

"Come on." Hogan walked towards the radio room and everyone followed. The agents' eyes widened as they were moved throughout the complex. Baker looked up as Hogan, the rest of the men and the agents entered his sanctum.

"Baker, please call London."

"Papa Bear calling Goldilocks. Come in Goldilocks."

"Oh, God." Boswell said as he and Garrett glanced at each other. Suddenly neither of them felt at all well.

"This is Goldilocks."

"Let me talk to them." Baker handed Hogan the mike. "Goldilocks, this is Papa Bear."

"Papa Bear! Good to hear from you. Heard you were rescued. Good show, old boy."

"It appears that we've had a real screw-up, Goldilocks."

"Screw-up? We're investigating, Papa Bear. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Hogan clenched the mike. "Inconvenience? We were close to shutting down, Goldilocks."

"Understood, Papa Bear. Perhaps you should speak with the other party?"

"Why don't you speak with the other party, Goldilocks. In fact, why don't you two have a nice chat over tea and have a nice discussion on how our operation was almost blown over the fact that two departments couldn't talk to each other!"

"Goldilocks requests that Papa Bear calm down. The blame belongs to the other department, Papa Bear. They overstepped their authority. We will be talking with them, Papa Bear."

"Great," Hogan replied. "Two generals tossing blame back and forth?"

"Negative, Papa Bear. Other control agent to be questioned as well."

Hogan clenched the mike a little tighter. "Who decided it was SOP to pass out the code and frequency, Goldilocks? That's quite a breach of security."

"We'll have to get back to you on that, Papa Bear."

"Colonel Hogan?" Garrett finally broke in on the conversation. "We all could have been handed over to the Gestapo if it wasn't for that little breach of security."

Hogan ignored Garrett and returned to the microphone. "I want to speak with Butler, Goldilocks, and we'll need the sub."

"Understood, Papa Bear. Will inform as to time for rendezvous with sub."

"Butler," Hogan repeated. "Or harassment instructions may be lost in the mail, Goldilocks."

"No need to make threats, Papa Bear; we will arrange a call."

"Good. Papa Bear out." Hogan handed Baker the microphone and glared at the agents. "Now you two are stuck here until we get a rendezvous time."

"Look Colonel. Obviously, there has been a big SNAFU here, but we're all on the same side," Boswell pleaded.

"You're right," Hogan sighed. "Let's go up top and have a chat. Garrett, Boswell, welcome to our travelers' aid society."

The next morning, an army truck pulled up to the gates of Stalag 13. After a moment, the guards opened the gates and waved the truck through. The truck pulled up next to the Kommandanteur, arousing the attention of Schultz. The driver got out and asked to speak with the Kommandant. "I believe we have one of your prisoners in the back."

Schultz immediately went to fetch Klink, who quickly hurried out.

"You have one of my prisoners?" Klink asked, "Well where is he?"

The driver opened up the back and helped Hogan jump to the ground.

"Hogan? Where were you?"

"We found him on the side of the road, about ten kilometers from here. He managed to tell us where he came from, and that's about it," the driver said. "If he is yours, can we leave? We need to get back to our post."

"Oh, of course. Thank you. Schultz, please help Colonel Hogan into my office and then let his men know he is back."

The two German soldiers and Hogan exchanged a quick glance and a wink. Schultz took Hogan's arm and helped him into Klink's office, as Klink followed behind. Klink poured a glass of sherry and offered it to the Colonel, who looked like he had been through the ringer.

"Thanks," Hogan croaked.

"Who were those men, where were you, and how did you get away?"

"Whoa, Kommandant, one question at a time. What do you mean, who were those men?"

"They weren't from the Gestapo." Klink said.

"Could have fooled me," Hogan answered. "They took me to a house. Kept questioning me about the sabotage, the Underground. You know, the usual."

Klink nodded.

"They didn't like my answers."

"I can see that," Klink said sympathetically.

"And then they left."

"Left?"

"Well, they didn't come back. I managed to untie myself and crawled out of a window."

"Remarkable. And then…"

"I walked a bit and I think I passed out on the road. Next thing you know, I was looking down the barrel of a German rifle, and that's it." Hogan took another sip of his sherry and sunk back into the chair.

"I have to call Major Hochstetter."

"Hochstetter?" Hogan asked innocently.

"He's had his men looking all over for you and those imposters." Klink explained "Hogan, do you need the medic?"

"No. I think I just need to go to bed, Sir."

Schultz had returned and Klink asked him to escort Hogan back to his barracks.

"Thank you, Sir." Hogan offered a shaky salute and left with the Sergeant.

"Remarkable." Klink shook his head.

"I am glad you are back, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said.

"Me too ,Schultz."

"Do you think he bought it, Colonel?" Schultz had left Hogan in the care of his men, and they were now enjoying a cup of coffee around the table in the common room.

"Hook, line and sinker. Now, what about our uninvited guests?" Hogan asked.

"Sub's ready, Colonel." Kinch reported. "We can move them out this afternoon, and when they get to England, they'll be taken right to London. General Butler is expecting them, Sir."

"Shouldn't we feel a bit sorry for them, Colonel? After all, they were just following orders from Military Intelligence."

"Blimey, Carter." Newkirk gave him a friendly smack. "After what they put the gov'nor through?"

"Well, I don't know… I might"

"Have done the same thing?" Hogan asked. Carter shrugged, "Actually, it's Hodges from Military Intelligence that'll be answering for what happened." Hogan put down his cup. "Now, I told Klink I was going to bed."

"Go ahead, Sir. We'll mind the fort."

"Thanks Kinch. I'll want to see those two before they leave."

Hogan was down in the tunnels speaking with Boswell and Garrett before they were handed off to the Underground.

"You have to hand it to yourself, Colonel. This operation was so secret that our superiors didn't even know about it." Garrett was relieved that a disaster was averted.

"So," Hogan grinned. "If my men hadn't called Burkhalter, then what? We would have headed across Germany and gone home. How?"

"We can't reveal that," Garrett replied. "You know, we have our own system and set of contacts."

"All right. You two had orders to, uh, in case… didn't you?"

"Colonel, you know the score." Boswell was uncomfortable, but he felt he owed Hogan the truth. "But, we had every intention of getting you out of Germany and back to England. We always thought it was best to let the army lawyers sort these things out."

"I'm glad you work for our side, but I would prefer not to see you around here again." Hogan escorted the two spies to the ladder.

"I think the feeling is mutual, Sir." Boswell answered as he climbed up the ladder.

Hogan shook his head as he watched the men disappear. He knew the two spies were good men, but he was still angry about the entire fiasco. Now, there was one last thing he had to do before he tried to forget the whole affair. He had never properly thanked his men for using their heads and setting his rescue in motion. An extra weekend pass to Hammelburg seemed like a good reward for their ingenuity. After they "volunteered" to test the truth serum, of course.  



	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

It had been three months since Captain John McGraw had miraculously escaped from his stalag and returned to England. Now flying with a new crew; he was too consumed by the day-to-day stress of staying alive to wonder about his time in Stalag 13 and the complaints he had made about its Senior POW Officer.

This evening, his squadron was briefed on a new assignment. Their targets were industrial sites located in the area surrounding the small city of Hammelburg. The squadron was dutifully made aware of the coordinates of a POW camp nearby in order to avoid any Allied casualties.

"Ain't that the camp you were in, Captain?" McGraw's new navigator had heard about the German SNAFU and the Captain's later transfer to an officer's camp.

"Yup, that's the one." A brief thought crossed McGraw's mind and he radioed the squadron leader to warn the rest of the planes that the camp was small and would not be easily spotted. It was during this particular sortie, that Captain John McGraw's short run of good luck would now come to an end. For the second time, he found himself floating down to earth in his parachute, praying for his life and the lives of his crew and wondering where he would end up this time.

"Looks like only one plane took a hit." Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau were on the air raid watch outside the camp perimeter that evening. They counted the parachutes coming down and scrambled to try and rescue as many fliers as they could before they were captured by the patrols.

Out of the crew of six, two had luckily landed close enough to the camp and the three men quickly headed for the wooded area where the chutes had come down. McGraw's gunner had been caught in a tree and was frantically trying to free himself, while the Captain had successfully landed on the ground. Unfortunately, he had caught some flak and was bleeding heavily from wounds in his leg.

LeBeau and Newkirk went to assist the gunner, while Carter headed towards the wounded captain. Hurt and unsure of where he was, McGraw reached for his pistol and pointed it at the man coming towards him.

Carter was, of course, unfazed. This happened constantly. "Easy. I'm here to help you. I'm American. Put yours down and I'll put mine down." For some reason, McGraw believed him and dropped the pistol; then in a fleeting moment, thought that through the camouflage paint, the man looked familiar.

"You hurt, Captain?"

McGraw nodded. "Leg."

"Let's have a look." Carter took out a handkerchief and tied it around the wound. "You think you can stand, Sir? We can't stay here or the Krauts will find us."

"Yeah, I think so."

Carter helped McGraw up and the two of them started moving towards the tunnel entrance, as Newkirk, LeBeau and the gunner caught up.

"Who are you guys?" The gunner asked.

"Just call us the traveler's aid society," LeBeau cracked as they neared the entrance.

"Careful," Carter warned. "Watch the searchlights, get down!" They waited until it was clear and then opened the stump. LeBeau volunteered to go in first to fetch the medic, and the rest followed. They helped McGraw down the ladder and got him into a chair. It was once he was settled, that Newkirk noticed the Captain's tag on his flight suit and realized the man looked familiar.

"Captain? Were you shot down before and sent to a POW camp near Hammelburg?"

Grimacing, McGraw replied, "About six months ago."

"I thought you looked familiar. 'Ey, Andrew, we 'ave a repeater!"

"Gee, that's a first! Boy. Bad luck. Sorry, Sir."

"Excuse me," the gunner interrupted. "Where are we?"

"Under Stalag 13." LeBeau replied. "Wilson's on his way."

"What?" McGraw thought for sure he had heard wrong.

"How many we get?" Hogan had been in the radio room and had suddenly appeared.

"Only two of six tonight, Sir. The rest were picked up," Newkirk answered.

"We can't save everybody." Hogan said quietly. "Good job, guys."

"You mean to tell me we're under a prison camp? Fantastic." The gunner started looking around in astonishment. "You do this often?" He asked.

"As often as we can," Carter replied. "Plus sabotage."

"Carter is too modest," Newkirk said. "We've sent home hundreds of fliers. Escapees as well."

"Sabotage?" McGraw began to look a little pale.

Hogan stared at McGraw. "You look familiar."

"Captain McGraw, Colonel. I was here about six months ago and then I got switched out."

The name and face rang a bell. "You escaped from seven?" Hogan asked.

"Yes, Sir." McGraw said hesitantly.

"Well, you're a little luckier this time. We'll get the two of you papers and civilian clothes, and get you out. Probably be a few days." He had noticed McGraw's injury. "Anyone call the medic?" Hogan asked.

"He's coming." LeBeau replied.

"Good. He'll take care of the leg."

Carter was explaining to McGraw the strange circumstances surrounding the captain's first visit to Stalag 13. "Well, we had to make sure you weren't a plant. Then, by the time we had you cleared, you got transferred out. Normally, we would have ambushed the truck or done something, but I think there was bad weather and maneuvers in the area. Sorry you had to go through that, Sir. But then you escaped and, uh, got shot down again." Carter suddenly stopped talking.

"It's OK." McGraw winced.

"That's it. Done." Wilson put the final touch on the bandage. "Not too bad, but take it easy. You lost some blood."

"The sub can pick them up in three days." Hogan had come back into the room.

"Colonel?" McGraw was attempting to get over his shock and finally found his voice. "All the tunnels? How come…?"

"We don't escape?" Hogan finished his sentence for him. He was used to the question. "We're stationed here."

That explains the no-escape policy, McGraw realized. "No escapes and Klink keeps his job. Right?"

"That's about the size of it." Hogan replied. "You catch on quick."

McGraw suddenly began to feel sick. "I think I may need to lie down."

"Here." Hogan helped the Captain over to a cot. "We've got to go up top and get some rest before roll call in…" Hogan looked at his watch. "4 hours."

McGraw and the gunner were left on their own in the now deserted tunnel. The gunner quickly fell asleep, but McGraw's aching leg kept him awake. In addition, his mind was reeling. How far had his complaints about Hogan gone? Were they quickly squelched by a higher up? They must've been. The Colonel was still here, obviously. Did the Colonel know? No, he couldn't, could he?

The poor, unlucky Captain felt so low, stupid and embarrassed, that he couldn't sleep. But then, it wasn't his fault. After all, the operation had been kept a secret from him. No, he still felt like a toad.

Two days later, the fliers were handed off to the Underground, passed through several safe houses and eventually returned to England. They were debriefed at a different location and left with specific instructions not to breathe a word of how they were rescued or face dire consequences.

Eventually, McGraw's conscience and curiosity got the better of him and he touched base with Major Harrelson. Without explaining why, he asked what had happened with the investigation of Stalag 13's Senior POW.

"I have no idea what happened to that information, but if you want, I'll look into it." A few days later, Harrelson briefed McGraw on what he had found. "Well, I gave it to Colonel Ryan. He took it to General Agee. Agee took it to military intelligence." Harrelson explained.

When McGraw tried to locate General Agee, he was told that the General had been sent to a less desirable location. When he approached military intelligence, he ran into a brick wall. Whoever had been working with the general had also mysteriously been transferred. McGraw may have been unlucky, but he did have common sense. He stopped his investigation and returned to his base before he too found himself sent God knows where.

Hogan had unexpectedly been called to attend an important meeting in London. The risks involved were monumental, but Allied command and his control agents felt they were worth removing Papa Bear from his den for a short while. He assumed correctly that the imminent invasion would be the topic and Hogan accepted another seemingly impossible assignment; divert a bunch of high-level German Generals during the landings. (1)

While Hogan was at headquarters, he insisted on a quick private meeting with General Butler. Still hopping mad over the breach of security during the "Incident," as he and the boys liked to call it, Hogan was determined to finally get his anger off his chest and give someone a piece of his mind, face to face.

"I want to meet with this Hodges fellow." Hogan was seated across from Butler's desk. He had already played with the General's paperweights, checked out the humidor, (he actually thought Klink's was nicer), and when the General stepped out, helped himself to a glass of whatever was in the carafe that was on top of the General's bookcase. "…And whoever it was that gave Hodges the Underground contact information that he passed on to Moe and Larry."

"Moe and Larry? Hogan, that's uncalled for," Butler barked.

"Sorry, Boswell and Garrett. You see, General, not only was our operation compromised, but I have civilian agents working with us that are in precarious positions. We work together and we trust each other." Hogan put an emphasis on the word trust.

"You can't meet with Hodges. He's been transferred." Lucky for him, Butler thought.

"Agee?"

"Same. And the person in HQ that gave out the contact information is now working in…"

"The Tower of London?"

"Very funny. You know, Colonel, I'm not Klink. I suggest you remember that." Butler sat back and gave Hogan a stern look. "No, he's been transferred to an air base, somewhere in Scotland."

Hogan laughed. "Nicely done, Sir."

"We weren't too happy, either." Butler stood up. "Hogan, I want to see you back here in one piece, when the war is over. Your men, as well."

"The feeling is mutual, Sir. Am I dismissed? I have a plot to hatch."

"Yes. And Colonel? Good luck. If everything goes well, I expect to see you by Christmas." (2)

Hogan left the General's office and returned to Stalag 13, where he and his men played their part in the Allied invasion of Europe. Boswell and Garrett, who were just doing their jobs, received a reprimand for not properly conducting their own investigation. However, they continued their work for Military Intelligence, but made sure, for the time being, that they stayed away from Papa Bear's jurisdiction. No one ever discovered who had originally started the chain of events that led to the "Incident," and with the war entering its final year, the memories of the "Incident," faded away.

(1) "D-Day at Stalag 13"

(2) Well, we all know that didn't happen. See Battle of the Bulge.


End file.
